


Fight

by mudgems



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s10e20 Unending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudgems/pseuds/mudgems
Summary: If this giant, metal, space-faring coffin they’ve all been prematurely interred in has anything at all going for it, it’s the acoustics.





	Fight

It’s the shouting that draws him the first time. He has no idea what the argument is about or how it started. It doesn’t matter. It’s the volume that speaks to him, that and the unmistakeable flavour of anguish in the tone of their raised voices. If this giant, metal, space-faring coffin they’ve all been prematurely interred in has anything at all going for it, it’s the acoustics. 

Cam will later tell himself that he’d been driven to investigate through a benevolent desire to mediate, to be the leader of the team he still kids himself he is (or ever was). To disarm the impending self-destruct in what is still a relatively small, enclosed space. The only one they have. The one they must all share. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the private darkness he’s been nurturing, that insidious kernel of jealousy, loneliness and misery that longs to wallow in the company of its peers. Daniel and Vala have an outlet for their rage and disappointment and fear; he can’t help but feel attracted to the evidence of the damage. He wants to feel validated as he slowly breaks to pieces.

They are so caught up in the euphoria of their yelling that they don’t notice the open door or where their fight has brought them. Or perhaps they do. This anonymous room, once a meeting room for crew members long gone, is empty but for its requisite table and chairs, all of them bolted securely to the deck and of absolutely no use to anyone. It’s perfect; there’s no particular reason for any of the others to happen by here. 

As they come into view, Cam brings himself up sharply, suddenly uncomfortable with the intrusion. Privacy is damn near impossible on this ship. They’re living in each other’s pockets. If the two of them have come here to the ass end of nowhere – or as near an approximation to nowhere as is possible on a ship this size – to keep this meltdown out of sight, he should do the decent thing and respect that. Let them blow off steam. God knows he’s had occasion to want complete seclusion. Interruption would not have been well received.

He has almost turned to leave when Vala flings the book she’s been carrying at Daniel’s head and just _screams_. The force of the blow knocks the glasses from the man’s face and staggers him back a step. When he recovers, his expression is as murderous as Cam has ever seen it. Vala launches herself at him then, her fists pounding Daniel’s chest. 

Cam has seen Vala in a fight: she can hold her own. And he’s read the mission report. He knows she can hand Daniel his ass with no questions asked. This isn’t that. This is all fury and frustration and uncoordinated violence. Although he can’t quite see them, he’s fairly certain there are angry tears in her eyes.

“I hate you!” Vala screeches with inhuman, piercing clarity.

She yanks forcefully to pull her wrists from the white-knuckled grip Daniel has snared them in and manages to pull one hand free. The slap she delivers snaps smartly through the air between the couple and Cam’s vantage point. The sound crawls across Cam’s skin like static. 

The air feels charged, and the pause fizzles dangerously. There are only so many ways this can go.

What Cam doesn’t expect is for Daniel to regain his grip, to pivot Vala clean off her feet and slam her back against the bulkhead. He doesn’t expect the sharp cry of pain that Vala releases, or the thrill of raw excitement that fuses his feet to the floor. He doesn’t expect the bruising kiss Daniel bears down on her with, his body crushing hers to the wall, her hands scrabbling frantically at his shirt.

She bites him, and Daniel growls. 

An unwelcome curl of arousal stirs deep in Cam’s belly at the sound, and he finds himself backing up. 

Vala wraps her legs around Daniel’s waist and bares her throat to him, but there is no surrender in the act. She is commanding and erotic and fierce. She is everything Cam imagines in those small lonely hours of the night.

What Cam can’t quite reconcile is Daniel, the force with which he meets Vala’s passion, the urgent sexuality of him in a way Cam has never viewed him before.

Daniel flips the pair of them to the ground in one fluid movement, the tangle of their bodies only snatched in glimpses now that the table shields them from sight.

Vala releases a breathy sound of pleasure and Cam needs to get away. He needs to… He _needs_. 

He turns and flees, Vala’s needy moans chasing him along the corridor as he goes. He can’t escape Vala’s bruised lips parted in breathless pleasure, or the sensual concentration lifting at her eyebrows. He can’t erase her sitting in Daniel’s lap as he skins the shirt over her head, unhooking her bra as her clever fingers work at his belt. He can’t outrun Daniel turning them both over, the muscles rippling in his back and the power in his thighs.

Cam stops short before the hangar bay, sweat at his temple and eyes widened, to see Teal’c standing at the far end hatch. The man says nothing, holding Cam’s eyes, watching him without comment. 

Cam wrenches his head away, his breath heaving. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, Teal’c is gone. 

Embarrassed and confused, he seeks out the dubious comfort of the nearest cockpit and tells himself he has nothing to be ashamed of, that he saw nothing, did nothing. He promises himself he will not seek them out again when the yelling starts, that he will walk on by and mind his own. He tells himself he did not feel his body respond to the raw display of despair he has just witnessed.

And when he finally leaves the hangar the next morning to seek out some breakfast, he tells himself the route he takes is purely coincidental, and that he doesn’t linger at the meeting room doorway just long enough to catch their scent before he continues on his way.


End file.
